


Take a Fuckin' Sip, Babe

by dittyditto (Triple_A)



Series: Local man says he won't fall in love with a robot, does it anyways with the gnarliest robot in his vicinity [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Gavin Reed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Touch-Starved Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor is Nathaniel, as GV700, connor's house is cold and he's a human disaster, cuz' that's right boiiisssss, gavin's a sass ass master and doesnt want the fool to die, reverse au, side characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 13:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18638944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triple_A/pseuds/dittyditto
Summary: It's December, in Detroit, and it's cold. Connor is cold but not admitting it.For GV700, that simply will not stand.





	Take a Fuckin' Sip, Babe

**Author's Note:**

> i want them to be S A W F T
> 
> also this totally wasn't self projecting (please send help my house is so brisk it is APRIL)

GV700 is an advanced model, meant to specialize in combat and police work, and capturing deviants.

He's not supposed to be babysitting a grown-ass Detective, watching him shiver for the lack of an adequate jacket in the middle of Detroit winter.

"Detective Argus, the current temperature is 18 degrees Fahrenheit. You are only wearing a leather jacket. It is advisable that you go inside, or find more appropriate winter wear." He huffs, as Connor tries and fails to avoid shuddering in a gust of wind.

"I'm  _fine,_  Gavin. Since when did you care." The man grumbles, pulling out one of his cigarettes and trying to light it. His hands are shaking too much to do so, and he gives up and shoves the lighter back into his pocket. "Dammit."

"Detective, I have recorded all evidence, and taken extensive imagery and video of the surroundings. We have spent approximately an hour here. You are already at risk of catching illness, and that probability is rising with every moment you stand here. Do you _want_ a cold?"

"Fuck _off_ , Gavin. I know I'm missing something here. Just-a few more minutes." He mutters, walking another circle around the frozen body on the ground. Some poor bastard, blood dark and frozen in a circle around him. Likely the victim of a jilted Red Ice dealer, Gavin had already deducted.

"You said that _half a fucking hour ago_ , Connor." Gavin huffed, but the man pays him no mind and crouches down, squinting at the scuffed frost around the corpse. "Any additional evidence would have likely been ruined by now, between the ice and wind. If you don't get in the car now, I'm tazing you and dragging you in there myself." He turns and glares at a passing beat cop, who had stopped in their walking to listen in. "What are you lookin' at? Asshole."

"Gavin, please, don't insult the officers." Connor sighs.

"For every additional minute you're not in the car, it's another officer's feelings I hurt."

"You plastic ass."

"Get in the fucking car, Connor."

The Detective still doesn't move, and Gavin has half the mind to act on his threat and find a taser. Instead, he just sighs.

"I'm gonna start with Officer Jacobin. Their stupid freckles and stupid hair. They're also a theater kid, didya know that? Fucking nerd played Mercutio in their high school production of Romeo and Juliet." Officer Arel, standing somewhere behind him, turns around to frown sadly, and Gavin flips them off. "Hey, fuck off."

Connor sighs, stretches up, and moves to go examine the brick walls of the alley, where dark splotches of blood can be seen beneath a white dusting of snow. "I rather enjoyed the last production I saw of Romeo and Juliet."

"You nerdy motherfucker."

* * *

Gavin partially succeeds, in harassing and hustling Connor into the car within ten minutes of being mean to the other cops.

"I cannot believe you actually succeeded in bullying the other officers into getting me into the car." Connor grumbles from the passenger seat, even as he sighs with relief as the car's heating kicks in.

"I fucking said I would, didn't I?" Gavin sniffs, as he navigates the streets. Detroit traffic was absolutely ridiculous in December. "The percentage of you getting sick at this point is higher then eighty percent. I hope you're happy."

"I had to get as much out of the crime scene while it was still fresh in my mind. I was onto something, I know it."

"Maybe you were, and maybe you weren't. But either way, it's one body, and your well-being is important for doing a good job." He turns, passes the station on the left. "Also, it'll reflect badly on me if you just fucking pass out."

"I fucking knew you were gonna say something like that. You were just getting somewhat sentimental for a moment." Connor sighs, frowning as the building passes out of sight. "We passed the department, Gavin."

"First of all, I'm an android, and sentiment is a neurochemical-con job. Secondly, I know. I'm taking you home, Amanda already gave me the 'okay'." 

"Uh," they pull up to a stoplight and Connor looks like he's about to jump out the car and sprint through the snow to get back to the station. Gavin grabs his wrist. "One, how do you know my address, and two, I'm going back to the precinct." 

"Uh, one, I have access to your file. And two, no you're fucking not. You're going home." Gavin matches the man's glare with his own. "If you didn't' want me to baby you, you shouldn't have made reason to get babied."

"You didn't want to join me at the crime scene in the first place!" 

"I'm a goddamn android, I'm fucking obligated to follow you wherever you go." Gavin spits back. "So shut up, okay? Your well-being takes higher priority over your orders. We're going home." 

That shuts him up, and the next few minutes are spent in silence.

Then, quietly: 

"' _We're_  going home?" 

...He hadn't meant to say that. A software instability pops up in his HUD, and logically, he should quarantine it immediately. He doesn't. _He's driving,_ he reasons, and it would be irresponsible to take his eyes of the road. Even though they're going approximately five miles per hour. He does punch Connor in the shoulder, though, not enough to hurt but enough to convey the message. "Shut the fuck up. And turn up the heat. You're still shivering."

* * *

They get to Connor's house, a small building with a clipped little lawn in the suburbs. It's neat, clean, and fits his outward appearance so perfectly that it hadn't surprised Gavin at all when he first saw it.

And then they went inside, and Gavin saw overflowing ash trays and empty pizza boxes and dirty cutlery spread throughout the living room, and decided that it still perfectly fit the Detective.

"Nice place." He notes, as he stomps his feet clean of snow on the mat by the door. Connor follows behind, nose bitten pink by the cold. "So clean."

"Eat ass."

"I'd say 'buy me dinner first', but I don't eat and you don't like me anyways." Gavin retorts. Connor barely reacts, sloughing off his jacket and tossing it in the vague direction of the couch, missing it by a mile. He's stumbling towards the stairs, toeing off his shoes as he goes. His eyes have a glassy look to them.

"...Detective?" But Connor doesn't react, and Gavin follows him upstairs to watch him promptly collapse into his bed, shoving a pile of laundry onto the carpet. "For fuck sake."

"Go home, Gavin. You got me home. I'll sleep and then come in tomorrow." Connor says, muffled into the sheets.

"Still an android, Detective. Haven't got a home." Gavin calls back, taking a look at the thermostat in the hall. The current temperature is 50 degrees Fahrenheit, not ideal from someone in a state like Connor. He turns it up, and the whole thermostat comes away in his hand, from where it was hanging on the wall by a nail, not attached to anything.

"Uh, someone broke your thermostat." Gavin replaces the thermostat and walks away from it to join Connor in the bedroom.

'Because my landlord's an ass and my house sucks', or 'Don't fucking touch that', are the answers Gavin expects to his remark. Instead all he gets is an "Uhnghsldkfj."

"...what?"

"Hmmnghmghfjkd."

He places a finger to the bit of exposed face that isn't buried in the blankets-specifically, the cheek-and finds that Connor's temperature was high. 99.9 degrees Fahrenheit. The starts of a fever. "Shit, you're getting sick. I fucking told you."

"Hurrrrrgh."

"Aren't you fucking cold?"

At that, Connor pulls his face from the bed slightly to look at Gavin, gaze somewhat unfocused. There's a slight line of drool on the corner of his mouth. "Uh....yeah."

"Fucking hell." Gavin sighs, then drag the blanket out from under him to cover the man with it. He goes to the closet and roots through the clean clothes, searching for something that might constitute pajamas. He locates a large, DPD hoodie, and a pair of relatively clean sweatpants, and throws them both at Connor, catching him in the face and making him grunt with surprise.

"Get changed before you die of hypothermia. I'm going to try and fix your heating." Gavin orders, starting down the stairs.

"Good luck, I'm pretty sure the whole system's broken to shit." Connor calls after him, but it's muffled and Gavin can only assume that he at least listened and was pulling on the hoodie.

Connor's right, of course. A few key pieces are missing to fix it, all of which Gavin doubts Connor owns. Additionally, the whole thing is rusted through, and he can assume that it hasn't functioned properly for a while. How Connor wasn't always getting sick, he had no idea.

At least the stove works. He finds a small pot, and heats up some water. There's no real food in the fridge, or pantry, or anything, and Gavin's not about to boil a piece of stale pizza and call it soup. He finds a box of tea, though, some fancy herbal shit that Connor almost certainly did not buy, and drops a few teabags into the hot water before filling a dog-shaped mug.

He returns to find Connor dressed, his previous outfit thrown carelessly to the ground. No longer tucked in though, and scrolling through a tablet, face lit up blue by the screen.

"Put that down. You're sick." Gavin says, plucking the tablet from his hands. Connor makes an aborted, off-kilter grab at it. "Also, why the fuck is your heating so bad. Whose your landlord?"

Connor doesn't bother trying to dignify those questions with a reply. "I'm _fine._ " He grumbles.

"And I'm the CyberLyfe CEO. Here-" He shoves the mug into Connor's hands. "Drink. It'll warm you up."

"I'm allergic to tea," Connor begins.

"Like hell you are. I have your file, remember? Drink your fucking tea and suck it up, baby-man."

Connor scowls at him. "I didn't ask you to come into my house and coddle me."

"And I didn't ask to be assigned to you, but here we are." Gavin snarks back.

"Shut the fuck up, okay?! I know I'm a fucking wreck. I don't need constant reminder, alright?" He snaps, and it takes Gavin off guard. "Why can't you take a fucking order for once and _fuck off_!"

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^**

**CONNOR ARGUS: V**

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^**

Gavin can't even quarantine them, dismissing the red warnings that clog his line of sight, of Connor on the brink of tears. The man is frustrated, fingers trembling on the cup. His cheeks are pinked from fever and anger. "I-I know, okay. I'm never going to do well enough to surpass Nathaniel. I'm never going to be good enough for whatever Amanda wants. Why do you think you got assigned to me? Some stupid Detective who bullshitted his way here and can't function properly without a constant babysitter." Connor continues, hand shaking so hard the tea almost spills onto the blanket, and Gavin snatches it away before he can scald his fingers. "I never asked for a walking reminder to that fact, so why don't you just _fuck off_ and leave me the fuck _alone_ -"

Gavin wraps his arms around the man, successfully cutting off whatever the remainder of his tirade was.

"What-"

"Shut up. Just-shut up." Gavin mutters, burying his face into the soft folds of the hoodie at Connor's shoulder. "I'm equipped with heating abilities. Your stupid shitty house isn't cutting it."

Connor seems like he can't talk for a moment, Gavin can feel him open and close his mouth without any sound. "I-wait a minute, why?"

"Fuck if I know. Something, something, preserving certain temperature-specific evidence, whatever. CyberLyfe people were hella vague about it."

"It seems like you know pretty well, and also don't ever use 'hella' again." Connor mumbles, voice thick from restrained crying, but at least he reciprocates, wrapping his own arms around Gavin. They're not so different in size, though Connor is a few inches taller, but his arms envelope Gavin tightly and pull him close.

Gavin raises his internal temperature by increments, enough to let Connor acclimate. The man is much softer then he expected, all gentle curves under the rough clothes he wears every day.

"This good?" Gavin asks.

"I...yes. It's good. I-you're good." Connor coughs into Gavin's shoulder, and Gavin really hopes he isn't crying right now, because he only has the one stupid CyberLyfe issued jacket. "This is...it's warm."

"Yeah, that's the point." Gavin snorts, but he holds a little tighter and rocks back and forth, and Connor practically melts against the android as he grows slowly warmer, sighing quietly. "You still need to drink your tea though."

"Fuck. I hate tea."

"Yeah, I can tell. You consume literally nothing but coffee." But he doesn't move away, lets Connor have all the time he needs. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that, by the way. Like, I get it, if I got super bean juice to keep me going at all hours of the day I'd overdose on it too. But, also, you're a human, and you have limitations that you can't control. It's harder to fix you when you're this...soft."

"Ugh, don't you start. I get enough shit from Nate." He groans, but Gavin can hear the smile. "What would even happen if you actually drank something? Not taste it, but drank it?"

"I turn into a silly sprinkler and my fingers turn into noodles. Also it voids the warranty."

"That's a horrifying image."

"Shut up. Here-" Gavin extricates one arm to pick up the mug, and Connor pulls away enough for him to place it in his palms. It's still warm. "Here's the motherfuckin' tea."

Connor throws an impressive punch for someone bedridden. "I need to figure out how to block you from the internet. You suck." He grumbles, but he sips the liquid anyways. Gavin takes the time to message Nathaniel about soup, and then takes the mug away and pushes Connor down onto the bed. "What, not gonna buy me dinner first?"

"You-oh shut up." **SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^** He grabs the edges of the comforter and tuck them around Connor, successfully rendering him both immobile, but very snug.

"I can't move my arms." Connor complains.

"Good. Go the fuck to sleep." Gavin lies down next to him and throws an arm over the other's torso, as casually and as noncommittally as he can. Which is to say, not very. "I'll wake you up when there's food or a fire."

"Or puppies. Please wake me up if there are puppies, you over-glorified alarm clock."

"Fine. You walking sack of flesh."

"Oh god. Never call me that again." Connor mutters, staring at the darkness of his ceiling.

"Sleep!"

**CONNOR ARGUS: ^**

* * *

Nathaniel arrives approximately twenty minutes later, a small take-out container of chicken noodle soup hanging from a plastic bag. No one answers his doorbell rings.

Concerned, he finds the spare key Connor had given him, and slips inside, noting with a hint of sadness the state of the interior. It's cold, and he hopes that the GV unit had done what it agreed to and kept Connor warm. At least he can smell the tea he'd gifted Connor some time ago, so that means he was drinking liquids that weren't caffeinated, at least.

Up the stairs-the thermostat is broken, and falls off a blank wall when he tries to adjust it-and to the closed door of Connor's bedroom. For a moment, he's afraid of what he'll find when he opens it.

Until he opens it and sees Connor, wrapped up like some massive burrito and sleeping peacefully...and the GV unit (...Gabriel? Gallagher?) curled next to him, quite thoroughly cuddling him.

He drops the soup by the door, and like all good siblings, snaps a picture and leaves, quietly.

(His phone buzzes the minute he gets outside, from GV700 #424 696 6642-68: _delete that shit ho_ )

**Author's Note:**

> i have like a lot of homework due tomorrow but i also have feelings and emotional health comes first right
> 
> i live-wrote this in the detroit disc and now im gonna throw it here and finish my work hnsdlkfjdsl edits come later the story comes now
> 
> join the gang at https://discord.gg/gXFfbJh


End file.
